


Welcoming Padfoot

by Yahtzee



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M, bubblefic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-04 19:32:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yahtzee/pseuds/Yahtzee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thanks to boniblithe for the beta help!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcoming Padfoot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wandering_amiss](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=wandering_amiss).



Remus could have waited to take the Hogwarts Express to London with the students. He was due that much, Dumbledore said, and even the most paranoid parents couldn't expect a werewolf to be dangerous during the daytime. Some of the students would have shied from him – but Remus knew there were others who would not. A few would probably have appreciated the opportunity to say goodbye; he had made the time to talk to Harry, but there were others he'd grown close to. Shy ones, mostly, the ones who needed a bit of coaxing to come out of their shells.

For their sakes, Remus might have endured the whispers and the shame. But someone else was waiting for him, and that outweighed everything else.

"I would expect Sirius to flee south," Dumbledore had said, smoking his pipe at the window of his high tower. Remus had watched the rings shiver out from his beard to circle the crescent moon in the sky. "But I would also expect him to – wait a bit. For the searches to die down, and to regain his strength. So I might surmise that he would go someplace secure, yet familiar. I have shared these thoughts with no one else; the Ministry is not interested in the ill-informed guesses of a doddering old professor, I'm sure."

The cottage. The property of the Potter family, James' favorite getaway, one willingly lent to friends in love who needed to hide from disapproving families. "Does Harry know about the place?"

"It is one among many properties Harry will inherit when he comes of age." Dumbledore's face had been wreathed in sweet-smelling smoke. "I keep it tended for him – a fact I might have mentioned in an owl post. Not that I have any idea where that owl went. Or to whom."

And so, instead of leaving on a snug train surrounded by happy children prepared for their break, Remus left Hogwarts on a broomstick, whipped by breezes that were cold despite the summer. His trunks and books he sent ahead to his home by Floo; he'd fetch them out of the fireplace when he returned from the cottage.

After he left Sirius – impossible to imagine leaving Sirius, just as impossible as it was to imagine being alone with him again.

But most unfathomable of all was the question of how to welcome Sirius back.

What could Remus possibly say to him? There was so much that it left Remus speechless: condemnation and repentance and anger and loneliness and love. What was most important?

He could spend years figuring that out. Instead of years, he had approximately an hour.

Remus spent the entire flight – at least, the parts when he wasn't steering his broomstick around flocks of sparrows – trying to think of what to say. In the Shrieking Shack, they'd said the most important things; funny how that didn't even begin to cover it.

"Sirius, why didn't you just tell them you were innocent? Even if nobody else would have believed you, I would have, and I could have come to you in Azkaban –"

"Sirius, how could you? You thought I was working for Voldemort? James and Lily, too? Why didn't you just fire a silver bullet into me? It would have been quicker and kinder than telling me such a thing –"

"Sirius, I've missed you --"

"Sirius, I'm glad you're free, because you deserve it, but if you endanger Harry with your recklessness, none of what we had together will prevent me from killing you myself –"

"Sirius, I've moved on –"

"Sirius, I still love you –"

All true, except the part about having moved on. Remus wasn't sure that the lie wouldn't be best choice.

As the darkness deepened from evening into night, Remus gripped the handle of his broomstick harder, taking it into a slow descent. The wood was so old that his hands made it ragged to splinters and then smooth again. He wondered if someday the imprints of his fingers would curve into the handle. Probably, if he lived that long.

Beneath him, in the meadow, was the old cottage. Though he had not been there in more than a decade, Remus found he remembered all of it – the crabapple tree, the half-mended fence, the winding gravel path. The fence was in worse shape, after years of neglect, but everything else seemed to be much the same.

His feet made contact with earth, and Remus stumbled once before standing in front of the cottage once more. He could hear nothing but the wind in the high grass. Nobody had lighted a candle or lamp inside; if anybody were here, he was hiding. Sensible, Remus thought, and therefore highly unlike Sirius.

Then he heard a stirring in the grass behind him. Remus took a deep breath, hoped he'd think of what to say in the next two seconds, and turned –

\--to see a large black dog, tongue out, wagging his tail in greeting.

"Padfoot," Remus sighed. "That's cheating."

Padfoot appeared entirely unconcerned with having sidestepped all the emotional weight of being alone with Remus again; his only response to this was to sit down and scratch a spot behind his ear. Of course he was unconcerned, Remus thought. That was the whole point, wasn't it? Turn into a dog, make Remus deal with the issue while all his responses were clouded by the transformation, and become human again once he could sense everything was comfortable.

It was a cheat, a rather lousy one in Remus' opinion, and he was quite put out that he was a werewolf instead of an Animagus so that he couldn't try the same thing himself.

"I remembered you larger, you know," Remus said to the panting beast at his feet. "I remembered everything about you as – bigger, more powerful, more beautiful than it really was. Or did I?"

Padfoot just blinked up at him, perhaps hopeful for a bone.

Kneeling in the grass, Remus put his hand out for Padfoot to sniff. It had been a while, after all. Apparently Padfoot either remembered him or liked what he smelled, because he gave Remus' palm a lick and thumped his tail against the ground. Remus scratched the dog's head and sighed – then grimaced. "Good God, what have you rolled in? You smell awful."

Guiltless, Padfoot just kept wagging his tail. Remus got wearily to his feet. "Let's get you a bath, then. If you change back to yourself smelling like that, you'll regret it."

The cottage wasn't too dusty, though the air smelled a bit stale, and drawers still held candles and oil for the lamps. A simple charm filled the bathtub with warm water. Though Padfoot had once loved the water, it took a bit of encouragement for Remus to get him into the tub.

Had they denied him even baths, in Azkaban? Did he not remember the most basic facts of normalcy? The thought of Sirius, his Sirius, being held in chains and forced to live as a savage –

No, no point in thinking of any of that, Remus decided. He didn't have a traumatized Sirius to deal with; he had a wet dog that was lapping his own bathwater.

"This isn't the worst idea you ever had," Remus admitted as he took up an old rubber bath mitt, still hanging from a rusted hook on the wall. "And that's not only because you've had so many very horrible ideas."

An aged cake of green soap took some lathering to create suds, but after a while Padfoot's fur began to go white and foamy. The dog's eyes shut in contentment, the sheer animal pleasure of being touched.

"It's simpler like this for both of us." Remus scooped up some water in his hands to splash the suds away; his robe sleeves were warm and damp against his forearms. "You get a good washing, and I get some time to pull my thoughts together. But I warn you now, old friend – you could remain a dog for several years before I knew what to say."

Dark doggy eyes met his, and Remus marveled, as he had before, at how expressive they could be. He rubbed Padfoot's ears, glad for the chance to touch him without desire or anguish or expectations.

Then he considered that for a moment as he scrubbed the dog's fur with the bath mitt, washing away bits of grass that swirled in the foamy water. "I'm glad," he said quietly. "I'm glad you're back. I'm glad you're the man I thought you were in the beginning. That's all I've got, Padfoot." Remus touched the dog's head, wet fur sleek against his palm. "Is that enough?"

"Ah – Moony –"

Remus turned to see Sirius, entirely human and obviously amused, standing in the door of the bathroom. He whirled back to see the dog – some random dog, probably a housepet out for his evening run – still waiting for its bath to be finished. He said the first thing that came to mind: "Oh, bloody HELL."

Sirius began to laugh – real laughter, ringing and clear, not at all the hysterical cackling Remus remembered from the Shrieking Shack. It sounded so good that Remus couldn't begrudge him the humor, even as his cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment. Well, he couldn't begrudge him much.

"I have to admit," Sirius finally gasped, "the resemblance is uncanny. But honestly, Remus, you couldn't tell the difference?"

"If you'll recall, I haven't seen your dog self in thirteen years," Remus said with as much dignity as he could muster. This wasn't a lot. "And it was dark, and I was nervous –"

"This is a lot like the excuse you gave for snogging with that Slytherin boy at the Yule ball in sixth year."

Remus flung the bath mitt at Sirius, who ducked it easily. Then they were both grinning at each other like fools, and Remus tried to figure out why he'd been so nervous about this moment. It felt as though he'd been waiting for this far too long already. "Come and help me wash this dog, will you? We've got to get him dry and back home."

"Right." Sirius knelt by Remus' side, and though they were not touching it felt more intimate than their rushed embrace a few days ago. Maybe it was that they were alone. Well, except for the dog.

"Honestly," Remus said, turning his attention back to lathering. "I can't believe I was pouring out my soul to a dog."

"People do." Sirius looked almost philosophical. "I've learned that much. And Remus?"

"Yes?"

"It is enough. Being glad." Sirius' hand brushed against his in the warm water. "Best welcome a man could have."

 

END


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